Firsts and Lasts
by tigerlilycorinne
Summary: Kliensen's biggest moments, and believe me, they've had a few. From the first hello to the first heartbreak to the first date and onwards, they've had a lifetime of firsts. How do Evan and Jared find each other, and when they strike up a tentative relationship, how long does it last? UPDATES: Once a week, every week.
1. First Hello

**-7 years old-**

**-Evan-**

What if he doesn't like me? What if he makes fun of me?

Mommy taps my shoulder and I glance up with a smile. I hope it's a smile. "Hey Evan. This is Ms. Kleinman. She's a friend from high school."

The woman in front of us has skin a little darker than Mommy's and lipstick. It's dark lipstick and I've only ever seen Mommy with light lipstick, but I guess her friend is different.

"Hey girl," the woman greets, and Mommy gives her this one armed hug and I wave with my elbow, not my wrist. The woman's heels clack as she walks over to me, peering down, and I clutch Mommy's hand a little tighter.

Ms. Kleinman's eyes crinkle when she smiles. "You look like your Daddy."

_Daddy._ I haven't seen him in a while and I don't think he's coming back.

Mommy doesn't look too happy. "You have a son, right? Jerry? Jeremy?"

"Jared." I start to wonder if Ms. Kleinman's smile will stay, because it's a nice smile when a boy peaks around this lady and I look him over. He looks nice- well, not _nice,_ but he looks good.

I like the way he looks.

He's just like me with shorts and a T-shirt, but I bet the kids at school don't tease him for it and his T-shirt is cooler anyway, and his hair is brown, which is better than blonde, I think, at least on him, and definitely better than hair that can't choose whether to be blonde or brown and keeps changing.

"Come on," Mommy tells me, "Say hello."

"Hello." I say.

Jared looks bored. Am I boring? How can you say _hello_ more interesting-ly? "Hello."

Mommy pulls her hand out of mine. "Tell him your name." She puts her hand on my shoulder.

"Evan." I tell him. "Evan. That's- that's my name." Oh. Wait. "I mean, sorry, you already knew- I mean, I didn't have to say, _that's my name,_ 'cuz you know that rig-"

"Jared." The boy with sea-green eyes smiles like he knows _everything._

Oh. My. Can _that _smile stay?

**-Jared-**

_Click._ Evan presses the lego piece into place, and I grin at the castle we've made.

"Is there a princess in that tower?" Evan points to the highest turret, but pulls his hand back when I scoff.

"This isn't a princess castle. I don't like princesses."

"Oh. Okay." Evan nods and doesn't ask why that is. I can't figure it out. How do I make him talk without getting him to go nonstop?

"It's Hogwarts. Duh." I don't really know all that much about Harry Potter. I think he's cool, though. He's only five years older than me in the first movie. Four, really.

Evan's eyes widen at this, and he swings open one of the plastic-wooden doors. "Whoa. Have you seen them? I haven't because Mommy won't let me yet, I mean, because she thinks I'm not old enough or something, I don't know, I think she thinks I'll get scared or something or- but I _won't! _I'm not a scaredy-cat…"

I doubt it. Evan looks almost terrified at the words coming out of his own mouth like he can't stop them. His eyes are wide and they go good with his hair. People say Harry Potter isn't even supposed to have blue eyes.

I try to give him a smile that might calm him down. Evan shuts up completely, fidgeting with the hem of his blue shirt.

I blink and then I stop wanting to hold his hand. Because I blinked it away and now it's gone. Because princes hold _princess' _hands.

Anyway, Hogwarts needs a Quidditch pitch and I don't know how to make it. So I tell Evan and he shakes his head, _I don't know._

His hair seems to change color with the shadows and the light, sometimes brown and sometimes blonde. I like them both so I can't choose a favorite.

"Maybe we could make it up as we go?" Evan suggests, and I smile at him, delighted. I grab several legos and let them spill over the carpet.

"That's a good idea. I think you're smart."

**X X X**

It would be the last time in a long time Jared was truly friendly.


	2. First Real Conversation

**-12 Years old-**

**-Evan-**

"You didn't have a partner for the English project," Jared remarks dryly. He sits at the table and I don't want to talk to him.

"I know." Everyone knows. I was supposed to do the speech today, but I just kept going _um, um, um…_ It's not like I didn't hear the names. _Retard. Freak._

"Well, tell me about this Daisy Buchanan chick. What's her deal?" Why is he talking to me when he could go talk to his real friends, the ones that can actually talk back- or does he only want to talk to me _because _I can't- won't talk back? It's not as if I'm going to push away the one guy talking to me now because he makes fun of me, even if he makes fun of me so much that I wish he'd disappear, which I know isn't even going to solve the problem because everyone still won't like me because what is there to like? I mean-

"Or don't. Y'know, whatever goes."

I think- well, I'm pretty sure I started hyperventilating because now Jared is looking at me all weird- or maybe I was just staring.

His eyes have a little brown in them, like a little island in the middle of a rich sea or like chocolate melting on a shining, crinkled wrapper, and the chocolate is… really pretty chocolate.

"You have brown in your eyes," I blurt. "I mean- sorry, it's just that your, um, irises, they have like brown- and I thought they were, like, just green-blue sea stuff but it turns out actually they have all these different colors like gold flecks and stuff but then there's this one spot-"

"See, Evan, why don't you just talk like that in class? You have stuff you wanna say." Jared's cheeks have a bit of red inside and suddenly I wonder if maybe it's hot outside, or does he have a fever, because I don't want to get sick from him, and also I don't want him to be sick in the first place.

I shrug. I don't even know what to say- _I can't get the words out_ or maybe _but what if they don't like me_ or even _but there's so many people_ or _what if I can't stop_, but I settle on a pathetic, "Well it doesn't matter, does it, if I do my work, right, because no one else is with me so it's not like I'm, like, bringing their grade down or anything."

I'm not looking at Jared's lips, not at all, but since I actually am, I go back to staring at his eyes before he notices. I'm not sure what the heat in my cheeks means.

-Jared-

I get these looks from my friends. Yes, I have friends. I probably won't if I keep sitting by Evan. Everyone thinks he's stupid. But he's just different.

His eyes are different, for one. He's looking at me with them now, for the first time since we met. That's my fault because I keep avoiding looking at him or talking to him. Something tells me I shouldn't, and I feel that even now. Like it's this self-preservation tactic or something.

But I _like_ it. Maybe too much.

Even though I don't know what to say. So I just laugh. "I don't think you need anyone else, right? Who needs a partner if you can do it yourself?" I hope that cuts it.

"You had a partner." I guess it doesn't. "You're the, I mean, _I_ think you're the smartest person but I don't think a partner would hurt, exactly, did it?" I don't know what to say to that. "_Did it?_"

I blow out a breath. "God, Evan. I don't know, get yourself friends." Even as it flies out of my mouth I flinch, but I can't take it back.

Evan opens his mouth and makes a sort of hurt sound. "Yeah, no, it just never occured to me, you know?"

Something about Evan makes words dart out of my grasp like mice in the path of a cat.

"I didn't know. You didn't seem to mind existing in sweet solitude." When in doubt, attempt wittiness.

Evan pulls up his shoulders like a turtle retreating into its shell. "I didn't- what do you mean, I _didn't seem to mind?_"

I am so dumb. This is why I don't hang out with Evan. Because I can't talk to him without messing things up. I stand up with a sigh. "Get some friends, Evan. You deserve them."

Evan's head turns up, and I can feel his eyes on me as I walk away, making my feet move, move, move.

**X X X**

It was the last time in a long time they had a true conversation.


	3. The First Time They Knew

**-15 Years Old-**

**-Evan-**

I glance at Jared, who's smile makes me duck my head even though it's not for me and it's not even a full smile because mostly, Jared looks bored, because at least at school, which is pretty much the only place I see him, he's bored.

If he's bored with those other guys, would he be less bored with me or even more bored-? No, wait, I don't want to think about that because I think about Jared too much already.

Like, way, way too much, and I'm not even able to stop staring at him because what if maybe- _maybe_\- he'll look over at me with those offhandedly beautiful eyes- pretty and flecked with color in rich green-blue-hazel, plus that perfect little island of brown in his eye.

I looked it up once and google said it was called heterochromia, which at the self discovering age of 13 I thought was kind of funny since Jared is very straight and I- who don't have heterochromia- am not because it just so happened that I had had my first panic attack recently and it was triggered by my not-knowing until I figured out I'm bi.

As in bisexual.

But as I'm watching, hoping that he might look up because I really, really like his eyes, he actually does and part of me wishes he hadn't because I _feel_ something and _oh my god, _I can't look away and his smile drops a little because I won't stop staring because I _feel_ something.

_What is it_? When I figure out, I regret it because _I have a crush on Jared Kleinman_, which totally makes sense. It hurts because it won't ever be good for me, but even more than hurting, I'm holding my breath and wrenching my gaze away or else he might find out and if he finds out-

The oddest thing happens to me and I fall back into myself, feeling all of me as if I haven't before- my whole body heats up and my eyes are so wide they might be watering and my breath isn't going and I think I'll pass out, and Jared is staring at me. And I think he knows and I can't have that, so I _raise my hand_ and everyone goes quiet and looks at me because they think I don't talk that much- they have no idea- and I ask to use the restroom and I walk quickly out of the room, my fingers needing something to do.

I open the door and the sunlight streams in from the outdoor hallway, but it isn't as light as Jared's smile, even though it's brighter.

**-Jared-**

Connor Murphy, the rich psychopath, calls Evan a name as he leaves. That leaves pretty much just me and Evan standing there, each waiting for our families to come pick us up.

Evan doesn't take the bus. It's because he gets nervous around people. He doesn't like interacting with the bus people and he doesn't like the crowded buses.

"Hey, Evan." I swagger up to him and let the strap of my backpack hang off one shoulder.

"Hey Jared." Evan doesn't stop staring at his fingers, which are fumbling around nothing.

"So here's the scoop: My parents say that since I got my learners, they'll pay for my car insurance as long as you tell your mom I'm nice to you, okay?" I pat him on the back-shoulder.

Evan steps back and my hand flutters down hopelessly. "Are you actually going to, though? Be nice to me, I mean. Because you're not. Really." I stare at him, and he rushes to amend the statement. "I mean, look, I- nevermind. Forget I said that."

"Evan," I try, and he looks up. And his fingers are tugging wildly on his shirt, and his cheeks have gone all red. And my heart. Just. Stops.

I want to kiss him. Desperately, unreasonably, and completely randomly want to kiss him.

Sure, I've had moments before, but now all the things I've noticed make sense.

Like the way I always feel more aware when Evan is in the room. Or the way my eyes find him every time the lighting changed so I can see his hair turn from blonde to brown or back the other way.

_Whoa._

This insane. Breathtakinging, exquisitely insane.

But also breathtakingly, exquisitely _painfully_ impossible.

Evan? Liking me? Trump would sooner marry a trans man. I treat him terribly. I've treated him terribly. And, let's face it, I'm still going to treat him terribly because I can't be nice, sweet, or romantic for my life.

"Jared?!" I can hear Evan's breath now, which means he's nervous. Like, very freaking out nervous.

I can't even stare without triggering Evan's alarms.

I will never ever kiss him. Or tell him how I feel. Or smile at him.

The poor guy might have a heart attack.

Not to mention poor _me_ might (will) get a broken heart.

I shake my head and tap his nose. He jerks back. Of course he does.

"Nothing. Just seeing if I _can_ talk to you. Which, of course, I can't. I mean, do you even _understand_ how pathetic you are?" When in doubt, don't give a shit about anyone's feelings. Ever. "God, I feel like I'm talking to a lamp post."

"Shut, shut up, Jared," Evan walks away, his shoulders pulled up around him like a shield.

**X X X**

**That became the last time in a long time they let themselves stare.**


	4. First Hearbreak

**-17 Years Old-**

**-Evan-**

Jared: Shoulda come to camp, loser

Tons of hot chicks, and im so very reliable with the ladies

I don't doubt that for a minute, not when he's so very popular with _me_ that I can't stop thinking about him even though I've been trying for years and I know it won't ever end well for me.

Jared: I got to second base with this chick from the army

_Oh my god Jared, I really don't want to know_. I don't want to keep my eyes on the screen because anything in the world would be better than learning more about this girl, who is probably pretty and thinks straight and _is_ straight, unlike me, but at least Jared is talking to me at all. Or texting, which sounds even more special, like someone would text their boyfriend but… not.

Evan: That's cool

Wait- maybe that isn't the right thing to say, because it makes me sound too invested and really, I shouldn't care at all about Jared. Maybe then I can be, well, normal.

Evan: How?

Like, I mean, how do you get a girl to like you?

_Other than being you,_ I want to add, but I don't think he'd get it and I have no intentions of explaining what I mean, so…

Jared: why, u like someone?

Maybe if I say it and believe it, I can make it true.

Evan: Yeah.

Oh. Oh no, he's going to want to know who it is and I'm not going to be able to say _you_ and I have to say someone else- Zoe. Zoe who is a bit rude, like Jared and doesn't care like Jared and looks funky and offbeat like Jared. Like Jared is.

She isn't perfect, not like Jared, but she'll have to do because

Jared: O Who

Because that.

Evan: Zoe

Murphy

I really hope that's her last name.

Jared: Hate to break it to u, but 1 ur a loser and 2 she way out of ur league

I know this is how Jared sees me, but it still feels like the ground has been ripped out from under me and I'm left stumbling and alone because as pathetic as I know it is, Jared is my closest friend except for my mom, which is even more pathetic.

Jared: But ur lucky im awesome here's her insta

I recommend peeing after jerking off

Sanitation ya know

I bite my lip so hard it draws blood and my eyes start watering, but obviously it's just the lip-bite not the fact that Jared doesn't give me a second thought, or care that I like a girl, or care that I even have feelings, or care at all.

I would be so much happier if I just dropped the whole thing, but I can't.

I _have_ tried, again and again.

Maybe, though, I can do anything and everything to ignore it, because I don't have to feel my heart break again if I pretend it doesn't exist.

**-Jared-**

Oh so _now_ he wants to talk to me.

Years upon years of him striking up the conversation, unknowingly lighting my day like a flashlight in the dark.

And then Connor dies and he's no longer invested in me- why would he be when he's got Zoe?

Zoe, who is rude and mean and takes his eyes and shy smile for granted.

I noticed they don't hold hands. Also, Evan wipes his hands on his pants a lot when she's around. If someone really loved him (like me), they'd hold onto him tight and never fucking let him go even if their hands were sweatier than me after walking up a hill. (Or, if we're being real, walking anywhere at all.)

Why would he have time for me?

And here's the thing: I was so, _so_ ready to put him behind me (sure, a little bit of moaning and gasping and making use of my thumbs, but nevertheless) and just peg him as taken by the heterosexual agenda, but then he comes _back_.

Evan, the indecisive, gorgeous little shit he is, decides I'm useful (_useful, Christ,_ my life sucks) and now he's telling me what to do like I _work_ for him, like I'm a pawn in his chess game.

Like I'll do anything for him.

Which I will.

But not this. Because I'm selfish and jealous and I don't need Zoe all over him any more than she already is, or, worse, Evan all over Zoe. Which he already is.

"This isn't funny!" Evan insists, his breath ragged and his arms gesturing wildly.

He's right. This fucking hurts. Every second of this is me being pulled apart limb to limb and set on a platter to be fed to Hades.

"I think this is hilarious. I think everyone would probably think it's hilarious." I'm mean and I'm spiteful and I'll never stop.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Evan's fingers twist on each other, a ticking bomb.

"It means, you should remember who your real friends are." _I can't stop._ I know what it means when Evan says he can't stop talking, but for me it's _I can't break this goddamn character._ Word after word, and all I can do is keep building.

The gently drawn lines of Evan's face contort in frustration and anger. I wait for him to tear his own finger off.

"I thought the only reason you talk to me is because of your car insurance." That _is_ funny. This idiot has no idea. _No idea._ Christ.

"So?"

"So maybe the only reason you talk to me, Jared, is because you don't have any other friends."

Protests fight their way up my throat: I do have friends. A few. I _talk _ to you because I _like_ you. All that can find its way out is, "I could tell everyone everything." If I blackmail him into talking to me… at least I see his face every day.

Turns out he's smarter than I thought (I shouldn't be surprised; he momentarily turns into a savage whenever he's triggered). "Go ahead. Do it. Tell everyone how you helped write emails pretending to be a kid who killed himself."

And I _know_ I sound exactly like what I am when I shout back, "Fuck you, Evan. Asshole."

A helpless, heartbroken little kid.

**XXX**

**That was the last time in a long time either of the two of them talked to each other.**


	5. First Coming Out

**-18 years old-**

**-Evan-**

I miss Jared.

I miss Jared so, so much and it really doesn't make sense because he was never even nice to me- or decent to me, like, ever, and I still miss the way he laughed at me and I miss his smirk-smile, I miss the flat deadpan and I miss the island- the little brown spot in his multi-colored blue-green-gray eyes and also his glasses. But mostly his eyes because they're, like, _wow_, from someone who seems so determined to unwow you as much as possible.

I remember the way he stared at me like I was stupid when I couldn't stop talking or when I couldn't start talking and I just stared at his eyes and they helped me start- or stop- or whatever- talking. I remember a few times when I was really upset and he actually _actually_ talked to me- well, at least _I_ thought it was real conversation- like right after I had a panic attack in 7th grade and I could only say _um, um, um._ And he was such an asshole but also I miss him.

I should say sorry. I mean, I should because I was- mean, like, very, during the Connor Project, but then also… he was… mean for the entire the time I knew him. Mostly.

But he deserves an apology at least, I think, because I think the most important part, or the part that really matters to me, anyway, in that I don't think I'll ever quite be able to let the Connor Project fade and become _so small_ as Mom said, because I'm holding too tightly to part of it.

"Evan." Mom's voice, which makes me so glad I took the year, because sometimes I wonder, really, really, wonder if I will ever be able to go into the world and not have a panic attack without her right by my side and right now, at least until summer ends, I have her here, and she isn't going anywhere.

"Hey." I'm fixing myself, being normal, so that when she waves to get my attention, I say _hey_ like the other kids, not _hi._ I don't touch the hem of my blue shirt, either, which is a step up, except I still wear blue because it calms me-

"Honey, what's wrong?"

I don't know how she can tell, because I've been trying so, so, so hard. "Nothing."

Blue eyes darken as she wrinkles her forehead at me, pressing, "Are you sure-"

"Yes, mom, I'm fine, okay?" And I'm _not_ normal because _I can't stop._ "I'm normal and this is normal and nobody thinks it is even though it totally is even if I didn't used to act like this, this is, this is _normal_. For me. Because I'm normal."

Mom grabs my hands. "It's okay to be different."

"I'm not."

Sitting on the couch makes it difficult to hug, but Mom, of course, goes for it anyway. "I know sometimes it's hard for you to think straight-"

"I'm gay."

Oh.

No.

That's not-

I didn't-

"I- I didn't- I'm- that- I'm not gay." I tumble hopelessly, my tongue dry and my mouth wet and my throat closed and suddenly I'm aware that I'm in a very uncomfortable position and so I pull away and scrunch up against the opposite side of the couch.

Then I take a breath and try again. "I mean. I'm not. Gay. But- well, kind of, I'm- I think bisexual."

Mom- I don't know what I was expecting- gives a smile that wobbles. "Your mom isn't going anywhere, your mom is staying right here, no matter what, I'll be here."

And then she pulls me right back into the hug and I don't mind the uncomfortable position so much.

**-Jared-**

Blonde hair.

Blue eyes.

That's where the similarities end, but if this is what heartbreak has reduced me to, then I can't complain.

His eyes aren't rich enough and they don't have a soft spark. His hair doesn't go brown in the shadows. His smile is too fast, too big, too much, so empty.

But if I close my eyes, I can tell myself it's Evan.

Don't get me wrong: I don't believe it for a minute. But I imagine. I play pretend.

"I'm pansexual. I'm not straight."

Darin's laugh blows out so full, I think it might throw up. "You just kissed me _hard_, my bro, I'm damn sure you're not straight."

"Yo." Don't think of Evan, do _not_ think of Evan. "You wanna go out?"

His eyes widen a little to emphasise the point that they're the wrong shade of blue.

That coming out didn't feel like letting out a breath, the way it's supposed to.

"Yeah, sure."

I grab his hand and pull him along.

"So, Jared, who is she?"

"Hmmm?" My fingers dance over the keys, ready to fend off yet another request to meet my parents.

I haven't told him I'm not out yet.

"This girl you're always texting? And going on dates with? When do I get to meet her?"

_Mom,_ I say in my head, and then _no, just no._

Nobody needs to know. Darin and I aren't serious anyways.

I fix a coy smile on my face, a twisted smirk too harsh. "Someday, someday…"

Mom doesn't say anything. I don't expect her to, and I don't need her to.

I'm already practicing picturing Darin's face, pulling, pushing coloring until he almost looks like Evan.


	6. First Sorry

**-19 years old-**

**-Jared-**

I should say sorry to Evan.

I should go up to that _gorgeous_ man shelving books. _Hi. Remember me? I'm the asshole from your highschool years and I'm in love with you._

Maybe not that last part.

_Evan. You look ravishing. Beauteous._

That's no way to get someone's attention. Especially someone who most certainly does _not_ want to talk to you. Or see you, ever again.

I could chuck a bathbomb at his head. They're for me, but for Evan, I'd cross every line.

"Sorry, do you, do you need- can I help you?" Oh shit. I've been standing here for too long, and now…

I should run. But his _voice._ I haven't heard that voice in so long and I forgot how special every fucking word was in that voice. _Is._

And here's the thing: he doesn't know it's me because he hasn't even looked up. He's still watching his fingers on the hem of his shirt, and then he stops. And starts again.

"I don't know, can you?"

_Jared, you stupid, stupid fucking idiot._

Evan's head shoots up (wow, he looks even better) and his eyes instantly grab me and won't let go.

"You're Jared. I mean, sorry, you know that, I'm- well- you- I'm Evan. From. From high school. And, and before, you know, before high school."

"Yeah, I remember you." _Not like you've taken each of my thoughts and invaded them until they're all yours._ "How'd you know it was me?" I wear contacts now. I swear no one would recognise me.

I almost look undercover- that's how different it is. Except the rest of me looks the same, but whatever.

"Eyes. Your- the brown spot." Evan shifts from foot to foot, not uneasy but fully anxious. Back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth.

"I'm sorry. For the entirety of high school. All of it. Literally." I don't know why I said that, and I also don't know what to say now. _Abort! Change the subject!_ "Hey." I wave.

**-Evan-**

Okay, I feel as though Jared threw several things at me and ordered me to juggle them just watch me struggle to handle them, but I don't even care because I can't help staring at him, because he's really still amazing, all him.

_I'm sorry for high school_ and immediately after, _hey_ as if he didn't say anything and how- what am I supposed to do, if I respond, because both would be weird and _I'm at work_ but I'm not sure what to _do_ because I'm at work-

"Sorr- I'm- me too. I'm sorry too. For the, for making you do the Connor Project and, and everything."

I think- no, I _know-_ Jared makes me anxious, but _wow_, I can't help but fumble everything I practiced to make myself normal.

Jared drops his smirk for a second and my mind pounces on how his eyes- no glasses now- widen and how his throat contracts as he swallows. "Yeah. Okay."

A small _ding_ sounds, which means that we're closing soon, and I wrench my gaze away from Jared, or, more specifically, his face without glasses, or all of him without- whatever it was before he decided to be… kind to me. I feel like he's treading on eggshells around me, like a tap might shatter me and he doesn't want me to clean up the mess and I don't- I'm not delicate.

I'm normal.

"H-Hey." I almost say _hi_. Jared smiles, unnaturally genuine,and I wave with my wrist, not my elbow.

I'm so- I'm _better_ normal, because I'm, well, normal, but Jared- I wish he wouldn't be so…

Normal.

**XXX**

It would be the last time in a long time either of them were something other than "_normal_"_._


	7. First Time Holding Hands

**-19 years old-**

**-Evan-**

It seems like the more determined I am to forget something, the more persistently it pops up, like how my hands get all sweaty when I worry about them but when I try not to worry it only means that I think about it more and then my hands are sweaty because I couldn't help thinking about it since I'm in front- well, I'm in the isle I remember shelving books when Jared walked in and-

"Well, if it isn't my favorite… um… waiter…."

_Jared?_

"Jared? What are you doing here?" I'm having so much trouble trying to figure out how Jared didn't offer something sarcastic as a hello, and still- at least so far, I think- I manage not to stutter or fumble my words.

Jared smiles easily, but I don't feel as if… it doesn't settle right because he doesn't smile like this, not really, at least, not how I remember.

"Most definitely-certainly not looking for you."

Usually I'd easily pin that as sarcastic- or deadpan- or, just, not true, but now Jared, this new Jared, might not do… sarcasm? Like, maybe he's telling the truth and, just, I can't tell anymore and it's making me nervous and my hands are really, really starting back up again.

I must be staring, because Jared rolls his beautiful eyes and holds out a hand, but it doesn't look like a handshake thing- it's not up and down, straight out in front of him- it's palm up on the, like, side of him, kind of, and it almost is like a _take my hand_ thing- but I can't because my hands are really _really_ sweaty and anyways, I'm holding a book, so yeah, I can't.

"I was looking for you, idiot. Sarcasm?" Maybe, after like 6 months, the old Jared is back?

A little? I begin to think maybe the idea is farfetched and I'm just hoping.

**-Jared-**

I recalled the way Evan's eyes danced over my face and caught where my glasses used to be. Last time, that is. So, being the oddball I am, I chose to wear them today.

And then I put them back in my pocket because I got nervous.

I'm not sure what I mean by holding out my hand. Ok, fine, I mean _hold my hand._ But I don't know how I expected Evan to react.

Not by holding my hand.

Not that I'm complaining.

But wow. This is… this is wow.

I pride myself in having the right words on the tip of my tongue any time I need them, my comments as smooth as Evan's are endearingly halting.

Now I think maybe Evan+Jared=words fail.

"Hi," I say, trying to sound wry and failing spectacularly.

"Hey," Evan replies shortly. His shoulders scrunch up around him.

_He's uncomfortable, you idiot, help him out!_

I notice Evan's other hand wipe furiously on his jeans. His hands feel fine, though I _am_ flattered he's worried about sweating over me.

"_Closing now, please exit the building."_ Evan's hand jumps in my own, and I suppress a smirk. I need to be nice. This is another chance. I will _not_ fuck it up.

"I should go back, help, you know, um, close up shop. You know." The pale hand in mine starts tugging out of my grasp.

Okay so maybe it's a little sweaty, but I don't mind. How could I? This is _Evan._

"Get coffee with me?" I stop a comment on how he's so pale, he really ought to bathe in it rather than drink it, before I say it.

Can't make Evan uncomfortable. Can _not_.

"Jared, really, I should-"

"Do you have to?" I can't let him go. I will absolutely not let him go. But also, I'll be the worst kind of loser if I wait up for him.

"No, but-" Evan's fingers tug at his shirt insistently.

I send him my warmest smile, nice, no edges and fully purged of sarcasm or smirking. "Then let's go, bro. Be a normal guy for once."

_Shit._ The fingers playing adorably with his shirt stop and his eyes jerk away violently from mine.

Then his fingers twitch like he's _trying_ not to fumble. And his hand tightens around mine.

"Ok," Evan agrees, his voice oddly closed, "Let's go."

Well shit. I didn't mean to… do whatever I just did.

"Evan." Gentle, gentle, gentle. "You okay?" Insults become concerns on my tongue, smirks become smiles so sweet, I swear bees come at me. "Eva-"

"Yes! I'm fine!" Evan answers loudly, pulling me out the door. His shoulders are pulled nearly to his ears. His hands are very, very sweaty.

And I hold on like my life depends on it.

**XXX**

It would be the last time in a long time that Evan didn't wipe his hands before going into the bookstore.


	8. First I Like You

**-19 years old-**

**-Evan-**

"Thanks," I tell him. "For. For the coffee. And, you know, um, talking to me and everything after, I, like, after the whole Connor Project and I just completely… I just, I- thanks for-"

"I'm glad we're talking too, Hansen. You spice life up a little for me, you know that?" Jared speaks not as if cutting me off sharply and clipped the way he used to, but sliding between the words gently as if to ease them away from me before I started talking too much.

Which I just did. _Get it together._ Jared's voice whispers through my head like a ghost that never stops haunting, even after two whole hours of coffee with the really, really hot guy- _be a normal guy for once._

I want to be, I really, really do. And I will be someday, when I get all my crap figured out and start actually understanding my own thoughts.

Jared starts walking down the sidewalk, and I hurry after him when he waves for me to walk with him, careful not to trip over the uneven cement.

"Evan." Jared turns towards me, the light of the afternoon sun catching oddly in his eyes-with-no-glasses, and I'm not sure I like it, just like the way my stomach sinks a little when Jared calls me _Evan_ not _Hansen_ the way he sometimes does. Or did. Or- well- it's just, where's the Jared I knew? "Come on."

And why is his voice so gentle- I don't know, and his smile is too sweet, like he used to come out bitter and dark and someone dumped a bunch of fake-sugar packets in it to sweeten it up.

I definitely like dark coffee more. It feels realer- more real?- and more… personal, or right, or… like, authentic.

I know that bodega: it's full of different foods and objects for everyday, like coffee, newspapers, milk, slushies, waters, and even condoms. And then it hits me like a flash: Jared is walking me home.

My stomach flip-flops and I glance over at Jared- and he's looking at me, which I have no idea how long he's been doing, and now we're just staring at each other. I keep noticing random things, like the swoop of his hair and the way his mouth looks like a quiet joke just for him.

He won't look away and I can't tear my gaze from him- this is kind of scaring me- a lot.

**-Jared-**

Evan's fingers are going to war with his shirt and he keeps staring at me like I'm this fascinating piece of art or something.

My foot catches on a high piece of cement, jutting out idiotically from the sidewalk in front of Evan's house. That breaks the spell: Evan's fingers surrender, Evan stops staring, straightens a little, and slips his hands into his pockets (jean pockets) all casual.

Not that I want him to freak out, but I want the old Evan back.

So yeah, I guess I kind of want him to freak out. Or something. This guy with his hands in his _jean_ pockets and his eyes not wide is _boring._

But the real Evan has to be in there. He just needs to be provoked. If there's one thing I can do, it's that. "Hey, Evan." _Oh for fuck's sake, just say it!_ "I-" I put on my biggest smile, totally not stalling. "I really like you, you know that?"

No one told me that one sentence could completely fuck up someone's thinking.

My mind starts going haywire, speeding through a million different ways this could turn out at light speed. I think I'm turning into Evan.

Fantasies: He kisses me. I kiss him. We kiss. His hand maybe goes a little low and my hand maybe pulls a few zippers.

Cute-and-realistic: He likes me to. We blush.

Most likely: I freak him out he stutters goodnight, he runs back inside.

Worst case scenario: he shoves me on my ass and yells at me for daring to like him after being such an asshole and then runs inside.

Also possible: I freak him out, he has a panic attack.

"You, um, sorry, you what?"

That was anticlimactic.

"I like you."

"Oh." That's it? "I um. Wow, I like you too. I mean, I- yeah. Just, I haven't seen you and I don't know if you're the same, if you like, um. Nevermind, just, I like you too."

I... shit. Holy. Fucking. Shit. "Well shit, wanna go out?"

"Yeah." Fuck, that was fast.

"Like, dating." His eyes are big. Like, huge. Awww.

"Yes- yeah. Yeah, I do."

**XXX**

That was the last time in a long time either guy would look at the other without blushing.


	9. First Date

**-19 years old-**

**-Jared-**

I don't want to push any of his buttons, even if that means I swallow my every first though in favor of a second, more tactful one.

I don't want to make it look like I don't care anymore, even if that means I wear something terribly nice-looking and I feel uncomfortable.

If I want to be with Evan, I gotta transform. Be different. _Keep him this time._

And I do. I really, really do want to be with him. I want to look at him without my heart breaking at how I'll never have that.

"Wow. Jared, you look really nice." My heart skips a beat at how Evan's eyes light up when he sees me.

"Thanks, you too." Evan does look good. As he always does. Blonde right now, his hair is a tiny bit… there's something in it and it looks good.

Evan smiles boldly when I offer my hand, and our blushes match when he takes it. His hand slides warm into mine and I swear I'll melt into the floor.

When I'd asked when and where, all Evan had texted back was _casual_, so I figured lunch.

Dinner comes off too formal, and coffee is just not enough. I actually don't usually eat lunch, so this should be interesting.

By the time we're seated I'm a little (a lot) freaking out because my mind is so freaking blank.

"How's life?" I ask finally, taking a bite of my sandwich.

Evan looks up from his soup, his eyes a little wider than normal. "Well." Evan's shoulders move up just a little, like a micro-shrug, but they stay up. He seems as though he's gearing up for something. "I- I'm not in college, so. Um. I mean, I could, I guess- but I'm working- I'm taking a year off so so- before I go to college so I can- um."

_Afford it,_ I nearly drawl, but instead I offer gently, "Take a day."

Evan swallows. "Yeah." We have this extremely awkward pause where I don't make a sarcastic comment. Then Evan goes, "How about you?"

**-Evan-**

Jared loves college and has fallen in love with computer programming, has gotten contacts- I miss his glasses, though- and, it seems, at least to me, turned into a normal guy.

Mostly.

He's still gorgeous. And smart- well, he's always been, obviously- but he used to be unconventionally smart. Witty, sarcastic, off-kilter humor, though I think- I _think_ has gone, or faded or something because-

"Evan," he hasn't called me _Hansen_ all day, "We know her. Don't turn around." He hasn't been sarcastic all day- in this situation, he'd usually make some rude remark about whoever is behind me or something…

"Who?" I ask, because now I want to turn around and see because it kind of makes me nervous that I can't see them, that there's someone behind me and I can't turn and I wish I _did_ ask to sit back-to-the-wall like I normally do, but no, this is good because it's what normal people do.

Jared shifts in his seat, looking a little- angry? Mad? Upset of some sort and I bite my lip because I don't want him to be unhappy but _why is he unhappy, who is it, who is it?_

"Zoe," Jared scowls, and then looks up at me and stops scowling.

Oh my god, is he jealous? "I worked things out with- I mean, well, we're mostly on, like, she doesn't hate me," I say lamely. Jared's eyes are still narrowed and… "Are you jealous?" I regret asking as soon as I do but I also really want to know..

"No!" Jared's cheeks flush and I'm pretty sure it's a _yes_, "I- no- Hansen-" _victory_! "Alana's with her, by the way- bold of you to assume anyone would be jealous over you." _Victory! Another snarky Jared comment-_

Wait, who? "No- no no no no, I can't- what if Zoe told her I-" I shut myself up because I sound like a hurricane and I better fucking keep it inside before it gets out and destroys everyone in it's path- except for me, it's inside me, so it's already destroying _me_ anyway- God, I can't let it out, what if Alana sees me and- "I'm going to use the bathroom," I hear myself say and I do, I get up and I walk really fast and _why did I wear a blue shirt_ and-

Stop. Think in sentences.

Alana- no one told Alana. Zoe already knows. Zoe is with Alana. Alana already hates me. Zoe is on tense terms with me. They might be co-hating me right now, Zoe might have told Alana, Alana might see me, Alana might come and yell and me or make a scene and everyone will stare at me and I'll start freaking out-

Who am I kidding, I'm already freaking out and the guys in the bathroom are all leaving because I think I'm about to have an anxiety attack right here, during my first date ever, with _Jared-_

"Evan?"

Fuck, it's Jared.

I think he finds me by following the sound of my hyperventilation, because Jared's face is right there, all worried- my stomach flips even though it has no right to when it's also tearing itself apart- and he looks like he has no clue how to deal with this, with me.

I wouldn't expect him to, he's probably going to leave me after this, definitely, and I have no clue when I sank to the ground but for some reason Jared is kneeling down to get to my level.

Because I'm always below him, I'll always _be_ below him, I've always _been_ below him.

"Hey," Hared's voice sounds far away, like I can't hear his words, only the echoes of them off the walls. "Are you okay? Shit, obviously not, sorry- do you want me to do something?"

_Stay_, I want to plead, but that's even more pathetic than _I_ am, and I'm pathetic more than anything else, plus my throat isn't working the way I want it to.

"Can I touch you?" Now the sounds are flipped and his voice is sharp and loud and so close I almost cringe. "God, that sounded wrong- can I hold you?"

When did I curl up into a ball, close my eyes, back against the wall? I keep thinking random things like _why is the bathroom floor so clean_ and _shouldn't I see blue if my eyes are up against my knees or are jeans too dark blue to show you anything but black?_

**-Jared-**

Fuck, I'm a moron. I think maybe it was Alana being there, but he didn't know she was until I told him.

But I had to think of _something_ to say, and who wants to admit they're jealous? Literally no one.

What do I do?

_What do I do?_

I'm _this close_ to Googling how to deal with your boyfriend's panic attack (_anxiety attack? Is there a difference? Google, help_) when Evan nods just the tiniest bit, this mini nod.

I sit down, my legs in front of me, and I reach for him. The tile is cold against my arm as I slide it slowly, slowly behind his body. This is awkward. Scooting forward, I pull Evan's body closer, my heart beating a mile a minute.

My other arm reaches around him. _Now he's in my lap._

I rub circles on his back until the warm body curled into me stops shaking, until I hear Evan's breathing slow and Evan lifts his head.

Then we just sit there on the bathroom floor. I'll _literally _do anything for this boy.

**XXX**

That was the last time in a long time Jared didn't know how to help Evan calm down.


	10. First Kiss

**-19 Years Old-**

**-Evan-**

He's smiling at me- a real smile, not the weird, too-cheery ones he's given me a lot lately or the almost-sadistic ones he shot me in highschool- and I'm smiling back just a little before I know it.

I can feel my lips quivering a little- I just finished crying, after all, so that makes sense, but it doesn't make this less embarrassing. Just, why today of all days?

"Done hyperventilating?" Jared teases with a soft smile, and I almost _do_ get a solid smile back, but then his eyes drop and he backtracks, "Shit, sorry, I don't know what I was saying, I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine. Really. It's fine." I lean my head on his shoulder, utterly amazed that he's _holding me_\- God I'm definitely in heaven.

Wait… "I'm- you're- we're on the bathroom floor," I say. I don't want to get out of his lap, but I shift to get up, and then he doesn't even move his arms from around me and I give up that easily.

_No shit, Sherlock_, I think in Jared's voice, surprised when he only replies, "Yeah," after a beat.

That was the perfect opportunity for any of his geeky one-liners, but I shrug it off mentally because everything is better than it's ever been, even if Jared is being a little weird.

"It's just, you're- you don't want to move?" Sure, this bathroom floor is really, really clean- like, house-level clean, but I'm still wrapping my head around, well, that he sat down on the floor because of _me._

Jared opens his mouth, pauses, and then shrugs. "Do you?" He looks at me.

His eyes are this marbled blue-green with that island of brown and his lips are- no I can't look at his lips because I'll start wanting to kiss him but that doesn't stop me from looking and now I can't look away. "Um. Do you?"

Jared laughs and I get a peek at his perfect, pink tongue- is that weird? I want to kiss him, I want to kiss him, I want to kiss him. "Please. You're in my _lap_, Evan, I have zero interest in moving."

I really, really, really want to kiss him, because he's back to _Jared_ Jared who teases and doesn't hold back because he thinks I'm fragile- that is why, right?- and I want to kiss him.

**-Jared-**

I wonder if maybe that comment was too much. Then again, he's staring at my lips. That can't be a bad sign.

Evan blinks and turns his head towards the door. "We should, um."

"No one's coming in."

"You don't know that."

He's going to think I'm weird. Which I am, actually. But he definitely doesn't want the geeky weirdo that was highschool me and stuck with ever since. Still… "I… may have locked it. It's a passcode door, so." I shrug.

Evan turns back to me so fast I swear his neck is going to snap.

I can _feel_ the flush all over. "It's… you didn't exactly seem like you wanted company."

Why didn't I just lie and get up? Unlock the door on the way out and not look like a creepster who messes with public bathroom locks?

Stupid question: I should know by now that this beautiful boy yanks every thought out of my brain and leaves me floundering.

"Jared."

I just stare at his fingertips, fiddling.

"Okay, so I'm a geek," I mutter defensively, wishing we could just go back to smiling at each other. I just want to stare at him and imagine leaning in and kissing him. Guess that won't be happening.

And then _he_ kisses _me._

I gasp this tiny little bit before kissing back. It's like the world exploded into colors, except my eyes are closed and the colors are inside me, pouring out.

His lips are soft, a tiny bit chapped, really, really kissable, and _so shy_.

When Evan pulls back, he looks at me and smiles a little. "Are _you_ hyperventilating?"

"So my breath is a _little_ heavy," I scoff, fighting for (yes, okay) air. "That's sexy right? Heavy breathing?" I wink.

Evan laughs this wonderful, breathless little laugh. "That was, we kissed for like two seconds, Jared."

"Could've been longer," I sigh, gazing up at him.

His blush makes my heart skip a beat. "We should, um." This time Evan actually gets up, grabbing my hand and pulling me with him.

I huff. "Tease."

**XXX**

That would be the last time in a long time Jared teased Evan about his breathing.


	11. First Break Up

**-20 years old-**

**-Evan-**

We've been together for exactly six months and I see him nearly every day but I only get _Jared_ to come out maybe once a week, because he seems determined to be this painfully plain guy, not really the funny, snarky one I remember.

_Ding dong!_

God, who am I kidding, I don't want to do this at _all_\- I've been trying to convince myself I do as I get on formal clothes and run my fingers through my hair and face-time my mom so I can not-freak-out to her, but I don't want this.

I don't want to dress nice, I don't want a fancy dinner, I don't want to talk to the waiter and have three different forks but this is what normal couples do and I'm normal.

So I step out and I smile, and it's okay, it's just I'm not feeling all that much- no I am, I'm feeling jittery and my palms are sweating- _shit_\- and I notice that Jared looks absolutely _beautiful_ but over this nervous buzz I can barely feel my heart dance and my stomach flip.

It should be easier to feel, but he's acting like a cardboard cut out again.

I sit with my back to the room, I clench my teeth and order for myself, I clench my hands and I don't fidget with anything, I bit each of my responses down to a sentence- not a word or two, not a ramble, but the perfect in-between because _God_ it's our _anniversary_ so I have to be perfect.

This is good. I'm getting better and now maybe Jared will stop treating me like I'm going to break or explode if he steps wrong, but it's a conscious itch in my mind, _do it right, do it right, do it right._

Jared talks about his job, computers- not that I'm not interested, just that he talks in this tone that's so uninteresting that- okay fine- I'm not interested.

"I miss you," I blurt. "I mean, I know, fine, you're right here, it's just- I feel like, maybe, I feel like you're not."

And this is how it begins.

**-Jared-**

I have no fucking idea what he's talking about. I want to say _really? So am I a ghost or…? _ But I think he might freak- what if he feels like I'm attacking?

If anything, he's the one who's been detached today, like there's water between us instead of air. I've been living right here in the moment, catching each of my comments lightning fast.

Literally lightning, because light is one of the few things faster than sound. I have to catch it before it leaves my mouth. So.

"I'm right here," I say instead, and I don't know that I did but I think he's freaking out more than I've seen him since Alana- I think he's working himself up to say something and it's scaring the hell out of him.

I won't lie; it's scaring the hell out of _me._

"It's just…" Evan's fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt, which I haven't seen for a while, and he looks behind him like something might be there. There isn't.

"No, wait. Why do you feel like I'm not here-" I'm really trying to not sound hurt or anything. _Blank. I'm blank. I sound blank. My middle name is blank._ "If anything, you're not here. It's like you're always preoccupied. You don't care anymore or something." So much for blank.

At least I wasn't sarcastic.

Evan pulls back into himself, and my heart plummets before he even opens his mouth.

But all he says is, "Can we sw- Can I sit on your side of the table?" and then, "No, no nevermind, I don't- I don't need- nevermind."

"We can switch if you want," I offer, keeping my voice even. Is this it? That's our problem here?

Evan's shoulders pull up around him. It's like he's slipping away through my fingers right before my eyes and when I try to tighten my hands they do nothing but loosen. "It's fine, I'm done."

I've been done for a while- I eat like there's a timer.

I look at him as we pay. He's still looking behind him. There's nothing there-

Oh. He's probably one of those people who sits with his back to the wall. I want to hold him and hug him.

I want him to trust me with that kind of information.

"You could've told me you wanted to sit where I was," I mention cautiously as we walk out, cold air hitting us in a wave.

"Tell you- why?" I can't get a read on his voice.

I shrug. "Because you wanted to. Right? That makes you uncomfortable?"

Evan's shoulders pull up higher. "Don't- you shouldn't assume things, Jared."

"I wouldn't have to if you just told me," I shoot back, eyes stinging. God, I know he lashes out like a scared animal, but the knowledge doesn't help the pain.

"You already treat me like I can't handle anything-"

"Because you can't! You can't even sit with your back to the restaurant!"

"That! That is why I didn't tell you, okay? Because you act like I'm about to crack at any moment!" Shit, he's right.

I shouldn't have said that. Evan turns.

"I wouldn't have- I didn't mean to-"

"No jokes. None at all, Jared, and I'm- it's nice of you to make an effort to not hurt me, but I can take a little teasing, okay? I'm not a- a-"

"No, you're right, you're absolutely normal. With your panic attacks- or anxiety- I don't know, I've only seen about five of them."

"You're- You- Why are you such an asshole?"

I grit my teeth. Shouldn't have said that either, but _damn_\- " What the hell do you want from me, Hansen?"

Evan's eyes are wide, white in the darkness of the light, as if he _is_ a scared animal. "I don't- not that, Jared, I'm not a cuddle toy _or_ a target, I'm your _boyfriend_, and you're- I don't know, you're supposed to be yourself around them." Evan looks like he's angrily trying not to cry.

I curse. I want to tell him how hard I've tried to not say anything that would hurt him. He's gotta appreciate the effort at least, right? "I shouldn't have said that last part, you're not target practice. Or a cuddle bunny."

"I don't know, sometimes it's hard to tell, isn't it?"

He _has_ slipped out. And as I watch him leave, I wonder if part of me let him go.

I could've teased him. Tough love. Fun and games. Normal stuff. He just wants to be treated like a normal guy. I didn't because I didn't think he could handle it.

I guess I do treat him like he's more of a delicate item than a person who can struggle and feel and- ultimately- grow.

I guess that's what he couldn't handle.

**XXX**

That was the last time in a long time either heart got broken.


	12. First Make Up

**-20 Years Old-**

**-Evan-**

I don't get it. _Get what?_ I hear Jared drawl in my mind, something more like what Jared would say than anything he actually said during the entire time we were together.

I don't understand any of it, like why would he _want_ me freaking out about things and why does he think I should talk to him because he'll regret the offering as soon as I open my mouth, so I really was doing him a favor by not.

Not saying anything. Not-

Does-

Maybe he thinks I wasn't _trusting_ him with anything? But if I told him, he'd leave and never talk to me again because I'm such a mess to care for, such a burden and-

Maybe I don't trust him, at least, I don't trust him not to leave, it's just… won't he leave?

Oh. Shit. Well, he already left so I guess that's the end of that, but he can't expect someone like me to talk to him about stuff like that- right?- especially when he makes me feel like he's putting up a wall between us, or a filter, like he doesn't trust _me_ either or something like that. I don't know- I still can't stop thinking about those words he threw at me like broken pieces of glass: _You can't! You can't even sit with your back to the restaurant._

I throw my hands up in anger or disappointment or frustration or, just, I can't even tell at this point- that's not normal is it? Or is it?

Maybe time will pass me by until it all seems so small when I look back; six small best months of my life where Jared kissed me almost every day, even if it was just a goodnight peck, and even sometimes more than just a peck.

I want him back so bad, all of it, even if that means the fake smiles and comments as soft as his lips and- _his_ _lips_, I want his kisses, not to get off track, but those, each of those wonderful, heavenly kisses. I just, I want _him_.

If I ask to talk or something even though it's been two months is that clingy- or wait, is it too late to talk if you haven't even talked for two months?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, there are so many _people_, here at the college campus, and I don't even belong here and none of them know me, so what am I going to do if someone comes and asks me _are you a freshman?_ Because I definitely look like one with my hands that won't stop fiddling and I can't stop- oh my God.

People start streaming out of the classroom down three doors- do you call it a classroom in college?- and I know that's Jared's class right now.

That's him, right there, his brownish hair and his no-glasses green-grey eyes that send my heart stumbling down into I-don't-know-where… _fuck_, I should go, really, because, just, well- who would really want to talk to me? If he hasn't reached out- maybe he'll just ignore me.

What if he ignores me and all these people just stare at me like, like I'm crazy and don't belong here, because I don't?

"Oh, dear God, you're freaking out, aren't you?"

I blow out a sharp breath. "Jared."

**-Jared-**

Evan looks _this close_ to flipping out, I kid you not. And I am _this close_ to pinning him against the nearest wall and kissing the breath out of him.

Maybe probably he's still pissed at me. We haven't spoken since that one terrible dinner…

"Look," I say, "I miss you."

Evan's shoulders are curled up around him and his head is tucked into his chest. "Can- I want to talk, but just, somewhere else?" His wide blue eyes flicker with panic as they scan the college campus.

"Yeah, sure Hansen. You remember my class?" I throw an arm around his shoulder and draw him away from the gardens.

"I- yeah."

Evan came to my fucking campus to talk to me. And then he told me he wanted to move. He _told me_. My heart won't stop flying in circles somewhere above the clouds. Holy gay.

"So. Um. You remember high school?" I grin when Evan just shoots me this look. "Well, yeah, okay. Did you know I liked you for pretty much the whole time?" That's my olive branch. Evan's eyes go wider than is humanly possible and he stares at me.

"Oh my god, Jared. Oh my god."

"Is that the only phrase of astonishment you know?" I don't jump to my second thought this time. It's like shedding a wet raincoat.

"I- _Jared._"

"Yes, that's me."

"I missed you too."

I grin, ducking my head just a bit. "I didn't mean to be like that. I just didn't want you to leave- you know, after all that high school crap I pulled, so I figured, maybe you'd like a different me."

Evan's whole face flushes, but he's smiling. "I like this you."

I pluck a rose from a nearby rosebush. "I like this me too."

"Jared-"

"Fuck off, no one will notice." I pluck the thorns off and hand it to him. "No one manages the gardens."

The rech red petals stand out against his blonde-brown hair as he tucks it behind his ear.

"Um, date me?" I shove my hands in my pockets.

"Just be you, and I'll be me?" Evan eyes me hopefully, hand still touching the green stem.

"Sure, Sam Smith." I wink. Evan laughs, quick and fast. "Okay."

**XXX**

That was the last time in a long time the two of them kept their first thoughts in favor of the second.


	13. First I Love You

**-20 Years Old-**

**-Evan-**

I curl around Jared's pillow, pulling it to my chest. The soft, powder pink fabric smells very like the multitudes of bathbombs Jared keeps in this bathroom because he likes to eat them, which I don't understand, but I let him anyway.

"Almost the end of summer," Jared murmurs, tapping my nose gently.

"Yeah." I don't know how to introduce the conversation I want to be having right now, because, yeah, it's nearly the end of the year, and yeah, I think I love Jared- really love him, not just like.

And I applied, somehow hoping and I got in somehow and Heidi refused to let me go somewhere else because she wants me to be happy… I don't know how to ask.

The scrape of metal against the wood makes me lift my head and look down to where Jared is sitting on the floor next to me. Jared holds up a penny he's just picked up, rusted, and winks, raising and eyebrow. "Penny for your thoughts?"

I watch his fingers deftly spin the penny on his fingers and catch it back in his palm, perfect and clever and just like him, my heart racing. I tap my fingers on his pillow and swallow, wanting to say it, but what if he doesn't feel the same and I fuck up what we _do_ have now?

Instead, "Can I dorm with you next year?"

Jared, for once, is caught speechless, his penny clattering to the floor and his fingers fumbling to push up the glasses he started wearing again- for me- finally stuttering, "I- Mark Evan Hansen, what the fuck are you saying?"

I look away, staring out his window that looks out to the college campus, crawling with students. "I-I applied here and Heidi- my mom- um, she works more now- I do too so I- more money, you know and I… can I dorm with you? Next year? I mean, it's totally fine if you, like, already have a roommate, it's just- I just- I- _why am I still talking?"_

That right there is exactly why I never, _ever_ try to talk without figuring out what I want to say first, but Jared doesn't seem bothered, and he never looks at me oddly because of it except for fun and it's always teasing- except now looks, well, different because he's just straight up gaping. I give him a nervous smile, hoping it doesn't wobble.

"You did that just to go to college with me?" Jared asks finally. He doesn't say it like it's a bad thing, I think…

Sometimes you just have to be brave, I guess. "I." I swallow again, even though if anything, my mouth is dry, completely. "I love you? So, um. Yeah- mmph."

Jared pretty much pounces, no joke, like I'm about to run away, which obviously I'm not because he's just, I'd never ever run away and I literally just told him I love him.

**-Jared-**

I have no words. So I pin him down and kiss him like he's everything. Because he is.

I kiss him like his lips are oxygen. I kiss him like he'll be gone tomorrow. I kiss him like I want him forever. Because I do.

And when I pull away, I tell him that.

"Fucking. Hell." My breath comes short as I rest my forehead against Evan's, my eyes so close, his eyes probably hurt because of my prescription.

"Evan. I love you, I love you. Forever and ever and ever. I- You're _magical_, you know that?"

I could survive solely on the material happiness in Evan's eyes. They light up like a fucking anime character.

And I can see him everyday, even during the school year! I won't have to wait until the weekend!

"Thanks. Um. You too." Evan's cheeks turn bright red.

I feel one of his hands on my waist, and I tip my chin up to connect our lips, hands sliding into his golden brown hair.

Then, on impulse, I pull him down onto me, grinning into the kiss. Evan exhales a sharp breath as I feel soft blankets on my back. I have to hold myself up on my elbows to reach Evan's mouth, because Evan, the ever too-considerate bastard, doesn't come down to meet me. I think he doesn't want to crush me.

"Come on," I tug him down, and Evan does lower his body over mine, looking embarrassed.

Bad idea. He's so warm and soft. Not to mention we're kissing… so I might have a situation right now. He's lying on it, so to speak.

His eyes widen when he feels it somewhere around his navel, I think, and I do the first thing I can think of, of course: give a wide grin and a cheeky wink.

"Jared," he breathes against my lips, shifting against it nervously. I just smile up at him.

Then I move my hips. Just a little. No biggie. But _oh my god,_ it feels amazing, even though my jeans and his khakis are still between us. I can tell Evan is hard too, right against mine.

I keep going, listening to Evan's breath get faster and faster. "God," I hear him breathe, "Ah- I love you."

I scrunch my eyes shut. "The name's Jared." And then, "I love you too."

**XXX**

**That would be the last time they didn't talk for over a day.**


	14. First Time Sharing a Room

**-21 Years Old-**

**-Jared-**

I survey the bare room, lit only by the cloud-covered sun shining through the window. There's a kitchenette and a bathroom on one side of the room. A closet on the other.

"Fuck, this is nice."

"Yeah," Evan agrees, panting a little. He's got this very heavy-looking box in his arms, and he's peeking over the cardboard.

"We have a _bathroom-_ you can set that down, the floor isn't going to crumble, idiot."

Evan smiles bashfully and sets it down slowly. "Do you- should I take a bed? I mean, do you have a preference?"

I'm about to say _the one by the window_ because why not, but I pause. "Evan Hansen, you little shit-"

"Can I have the one by the window?" I almost rip his clothes off right there. I don't have a trust kink but _fuck_ I love that he trusts me.

I settle for kissing him instead. Evan leans in for another kiss as soon as I pull away, so I press a quick peck to his lips and lean back, smirking.

"Hey hey hey, there are more boxes," I grin up at him.

Evan narrows his eyes- he knows I'm messing around to be an ass, and then he _pulls me back in._ "They can wait."

I throw a hand out, catching the bed right as I stumble and then I'm _in his lap._ Evan is taller, lankier than me so we fit much better this way than Evan in _my_ lap.

I'm about to push this beautiful, blue-eyed boy back and remove a few of these terribly annoying clothes when Evan puts a hand on my chest.

Gives me this _smile._ "We should probably get those boxes."

"Evan Hansen, you bastard."

**-Evan-**

The room is small, I guess, if you think about it, but it doesn't feel that way. Well, to me. My apartment is small, if you think about that, but I always felt more at home that way, because if the house was too big, it felt empty just like Heidi said. It just, it felt very lonely and friendless and like I didn't have a connection to the outside world or other people and this place felt friendly and welcoming.

I haven't brought that much with me, so it doesn't take very long to unpack my things into their places. Soon beds have sheets and blankets, shelves have books, and the dresser and closet are full of clothes that all look the same, and the bathroom smells like pine bath bombs.

"Really, Hansen?" Jared sneers incredulously as I fill my shirt-drawer with blue stripes and my pants-drawer with khaki, "You and your fucking blue clothes and those fucking khakis. How am I going to want to fuck you if you're wearing _khaki?_"

I will never, _ever_ understand how Jared can just say things like _want to fuck you_ off hand like that. Words like these make me splutter, like I am now, and I always respond like chess- three options: block, flee, or attack- and everytime I attack almost before I know I am. It gets awkward sometimes.

"Didn't seem to mind in high school, did you?"

Jared's look of surprise is one I'll treasure until the day I die, and he laughs like he's honestly proud of me. "Maybe we should just both take the bed by the window. Because really. I've wanted to fuck you and your khaki-and-blue shirt ass for _years._"

I shrug. "They're comforting." I think- I hope- I said it casually, like _how was your day_ casual, but it's always a leap of faith with these things that other people would tease me maliciously for instead of fondly, and I always freeze, heart throat, until Jared catches me.

"I wear a button unbuttoned so I don't look fat," he offers easily, as if confessions like these are the most natural thing in the world.

"Nothing wrong with being fat," I blurt unhelpfully, which is true, but also _not_ what I'm supposed to say, so I blurt after that, "I've seen you without the- the- uh-" I gesture up and down, _button thing,_ "thing and I still wanted- um."

Oh shit.

This is why I should never ever open my mouth.

Jared raises an eyebrow, grinning gleefully. "You wanted? Mm-hmm. Evan, what exactly did you want?"

I bite my tongue and don't say anything. Then I look up. "Just for that, Jared, we're sleeping in separate beds tonight.

"Awww, fuck. Sorry. I take it back. I take it back."

I just shake my head, smiling.

**XXX**

**That was the last time in a long time the two of them didn't sleep together.**


	15. First Time Sharing a Bed

**-21 years old-**

**-Evan-**

"Okay Hansen, I've waited two days for tonight, you tease, we are sharing a bed, do you understand?"

The sun's last rays barely clear the treetops, and I check the clock on the bed stand just to be sure, but I was right- it's about seven right now and Jared's already trying to wrangle a promise out of me as if he doesn't know I want to sleep with him as much as he does- not _sleep together,_ just sleep together. I'm pretty sure Jared can see me blushing.

"Okay," I agree, "I'm, um- do you want to go eat something?" I know the college cafeteria is open for really long hours, but I don't think I can handle the loud, young college students that go in and out all the time by myself, so I'm hoping, hoping, hoping he says yes, it's just, I don't want to _make_ him.

"Yeah, sure. You definitely need it, you're a fucking stick." Jared pauses, faking thoughtfulness. "Oh no, wait, you're an acorn."

I look over fast enough to feel the air against my face, a half smile already fighting it's way up my lips. "You remember that?"

Jared takes my hand, pulling me down the hallway and kicking the door to our dorm shut behind us. "Why would anyone have outward opening doors? Whoever the fuck designed these dorms are morons." Then he gives me this _are you dumb_ look and replies, "I remember everything I said to you, like ever. I'm failing my English minor because you take up that brain space."

I shake my head. "Not my fault, totally yours."

"Whatever."

So I quiz him. "What about when we first met?"

"You said _hello_ and then I said _hello_ and you were like, _Evan. Evan, that's my name- oh wait- you know that- I mean, I didn't mean to say that's my name-_ okay fine, so I don't know your exact words."

I am beyond impressed already, but I kiss him and keep going. By nine, we're laughing and lying on my bed, and I decide he probably knows everything, just like his smile told me that first day we met.

**-Jared-**

"Okay, so now that we've established I know every moment and not-moment we've ever had ever can we go to sleep?" I want to cuddle. That's all I want right now.

Evan smiles and blushes and ducks his head and I _have_ to kiss him. His lips are warm and soft, and already a little parted when I press mine to his.

I let my tongue slip in gently, and when Evan lets me, I thread my fingers through his hair and tip my head up into the kiss. His hands settle nervously on my head and the small of my back, making my heart beat faster than is healthy.

"I…" Evan's voice comes out raspy and he clears his throat awkwardly. "I should change."

I roll my eyes, trying not to smile. "I'm pretty sure you're the only college student who changes before they go to bed."

Evan shuffles over to the set of drawers. "Shut up, Jared."

"I don't know Jared, just, it's kinda early."

I narrow my eyes, already beneath the covers at ten thirty, my head propped up on one elbow as he walks towards me. "You're doing this on purpose."

And then Evan _smiles_, the moon leaking out from behind a cloud and lighting up the world with beams that dance.

I raise the blankets for him to slip in. "Stop smiling, you piece of shit, get the fuck in here."

The brown-haired boy does, _finally_, and his face is inches from mine in the bed.

I half-way smile at those blue eyes, and Evan leans forwards and kisses me, less gently and I part my lips to let him in. He tastes like mint. I guess I probably do too. I worry his bottom lip between my teeth and I swear we only make out for a few minutes, but when we're done, it's nearly eleven.

"Sleep, Jared."

"Y'know, you were right, it isn't that late."

Evan rolls over in response, and I scoot closer. And closer. Every inch feels like it's pulling me in, until we're finally flush against each other.

Evan's body is a little stiff, and I slip my arms around him to pull him closer to me. "Come here. You be the little spoon."

"I'm taller than you."

"But you're cuter than me. Cutest is the smaller spoon. Plus I wanna hold you."

I can feel the tension in Evan's body melting away like ice, like I'm fire and he's warmed by me. I think he's blushing too.

"I think, I'm pretty sure you're cuter than me," Evan mumbles into the darkness. I nuzzle his neck, listening to him gasp.

"_Errrr_! Wrong!" I rule, moving my legs so our feet are entangled. I smile against his skin. "I really like holding you," I say honestly. Maybe it's easier to be truthful in the dark. I definitely wouldn't have the courage to say something like this in daylight unless it was deadpan.

"I really like _you,_" Evan responds, and I tighten my arms around him. He's so perfect and wonderful, and I love it all, even when he gets overwhelmed and lashes out, even when he goes for the lowest blow, even and _especially_ when he lets me see the parts he likes to keep hidden. How did I ever get so lucky?

I grin into the dark. "Plus, I think bottoms are usually the little spoon."

"Jared!"

**XXX**

**It would be the last time in a long time the two of them managed to spoon without a… situation… arising.**


	16. First Time

WARNING for mature content. However, this is the ONLY chapter with mature content, so just skip this one and keep reading if it's not for you.

**-21 years old-**

**-Jared-**

You cannot imagine the agony of sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend nearly every night and not having sex. You can't. It's immeasurable, incomparable.

Today we sit on the bed, our feet out in front of us and our backs to the window behind us. Or, that's how Evan is, anyway. I'm in his lap, my knees on either side of him, pulling his face towards mine so I can kiss him.

I've joked and teased about sex, but I think waybe I should make it clear that I haven't only meant it as a joke. In any case, grinding into him is already wonderful.

I'm really, really hard. He's really, really hard. So naturally, I pause.

Evan's eyes, which were closed, fly open and he bucks his hips up into mine. "Evan Hansen, " I say. He looks up at me, pupils blown, the ring of blue around them a tiny bit thinner. "It has been an excruciating quarter in which I have done nothing but think about fucking you, so can we please have sex? Please?"

Evan regards me thoughtfully. "Okay."

"Okay?" I repeat giddily, "Wow, were you just like, waiting for me to ask?" The hem of his shirt is soft as I grab it to pull it over his head.

Evan blinks at me, shirtless and blushing. "I'm not- I don't just- I didn't want to just randomly just. Um." He fumblingly pulls off my shirt and then my next shirt with nervous hands.

I don't think I thought this through very well. I want him naked, but I definitely don't want him seeing _me_ naked. I'm not all that skinny. "It's not random sex," I say instead of _don't look at me,_ "you're my boyfriend."

Evan, the idiot, is folding our shirts and setting them aside. I don't even think he's looked at me yet. This boy will be the death of me. "Yeah, no, I know, but we- I wanted to have this conversation, you know? I- I don't know." He ducks his head. "I want it to be deliberate, but I didn't- I couldn't just-" I know what he means. Couldn't just _ask_. I get it. I do.

"That's the sweetest fucking thing I have ever-" I stop, because he's looking at me under the soft light. "I'm… Um…"

"Really hot?" Evan leans forwards, his lips pressing against my collarbone and going down, down, down to my racing heart.

"Am I?" I try to make it sound joking, but it comes out embarrassingly earnest.

Evan pauses, looking up at me, brow wrinkled. "Yes," he says decisively, and then my hands are on his pants, fumbling, and _his_ hands are on my pants. The air is charged with anticipation.

I'm about to have sex with Evan Hansen, the boy I've loved for years.

**-Evan-**

We're both in our underwear now, and I lay down on the bed, pulling Jared on top of me. Jared pulls back for a second and I'm a little- a lot- totally scared that I did something wrong, but he's just reaching for my waistband, and then he looks at me with a question in his eyes and my eyes say _yes._

So he pulls them down and the cool air hits me right _there_. I'm already hard, and I'm slipping my fingers into Jared's underwear, pulling it down and I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want this with Jared now.

I hear him reaching for the bottle under our bed that I think he put there some months ago, and then he _kisses_ the tip of my dick and a gasp darts out of my mouth because it feels so good and I want more, more, more.

And I get it. When I think of Jared, I don't think of sucking dick, but here he is, sucking me off like it's what he was _born_ to do, his mouth hot and wet around me, his tongue dancing up and down and swirling right at the tip and I can't help bucking my hips. I'm gasping really loud and it feels _so good_ and-

"Oh my God!" Something wet and cold and slick presses, gently, right _there_ at- at right _there_ and I'm panting, and then it's _in me_ and the hand that I have in Jared's hair tightens, and I have to fist the sheets and I'm making all these little noises as Jared gently inserts _another finger_ right up my ass, moving them around.

Then it's three fingers, and I'm amazed they can all fit, but they loosen me up until they slide easily and I push myself down on them, needing them, with Jared whispering things to me in the dark.

"God, Evan, you're so hot, oh fuck, holy gay-"

I laugh, my chest feeling lighter even as desire coils heavily in my stomach. "Did you just say _holy gay?_" and then I cut myself off with a gasping moan because Jared is in me- he's pushing his dick, hard and long, right into me, inch by inch by inch, slowly like I'm the most delicate thing in the world and this time, I love it.

I press back on it when he finally starts moving, his sharp breathing and moans mixing with my own in the cold air, his hands like fire on my skin, his blue-green-gray eyes with the one brown spot seizing mine and never letting go as he pushes in and out, drinking in with this _need _that has me gasping and whimpering for him to give me more.

"Evan," Jared gasps, his hips moving faster, coming in harder. "You're amazing, you're so amazing, god."

I open my mouth to reply, and then he hits something inside me that lights up and has me arching up off the bed into him, the spot sending sparks through my body and mind. I moan and cry out and beg him to hit that spot again and when he does, I clench around him- I don't even mean to, but I do- and it only takes us a minute more before we both come, stars sparking around the edges of my vision, Jared calling my name out, and I'm gasping _I love you_ through my release.

We just lie there for a minute, Jared's sweaty chest pressed against mine, his face buried in the crook of my neck and my arms around this wonderful, incredible person that I never thought I'd have.

And then Jared slides out of me, holds me, and we sit that way, my head on his shoulder, for a couple more seconds before Jared grins up at me and I know he's about to shoot off some smart-ass comment.

"Bloody brilliant, Evan."

"Jared, that's- I don't think- is that a _Spanish_ accent?"

"Shut up. We should pee. Sanitation, you know?"

_Oh my God._ Yes, I remember that text. "Fuck you Jared. Asshole."

"Hey!" He deserved it.

We race to the bathroom.

**XXX**

**That was the last time in a long time Evan and Jared didn't plan on a bit of extra time in bed so they could do more than sleep.**


	17. First (and Second) Proposal

**-23 years old-**

**-Jared-**

I can't say I know what Evan's anxiety is like. I know how he acts when he's anxious. I don't know how he feels. But right now, in this moment, I have my own brand of anxiety. I think I might throw up from nerves.

Evan and I aren't the type to do fancy dinners. I learned that a while ago. He doesn't like people, pressure, the expectation of something more. I don't feel like I can be me in a constricted environment.

So I figure, propose during lunch. Our first date was lunch. And propose in the grassy meadow because Evan loves the trees around it.

And Evan wanted to have a picnic today anyway.

And I'm nervous.

I'm anxious.

I'm scared.

Sure, we've been dating for _years_. We're still young. He's still perfect. He still might not want me.

When we get there, the meadow is relatively empty. There's so little human activity that the birds allow themselves to sing and fly. It's really sweet.

"How about…" Evan watches two birds chasing each other around as I examine the terrain. "Here."

The grass here is full of daisies, pale and white, dotting the grass like sprinkles on ice cream.

"Sure," Evan agrees quickly. His voice is a little louder than normal. I don't know what _he'd_ be nervous for, except… he knows I'm about to propose?

My suspicion only grows as lunch goes on. Evan made these wonderful, adorable sandwiches with no crust- he doesn't like the crusts- and even though they're _tiny_, it takes him a really long time to eat one.

I pluck daisies mindlessly, forming a small pile, and Evan smiles, using them to form a daisy chain, long, haphazard, and adorable. He doesn't speak. I wish I could tell you what is happening is his brain.

Sometimes we're quiet, but it's peaceful. This isn't. The air between us feels charged, or is it me? Maybe it's just me.

"Done," Evan announces. He hands me the chain, looped in a circle, and I take it from him. Drape it over his head, a small, dainty flower crown.

"You're fucking adorable."

Evan ducks his head, blushing. "Sh- shut up." My heart dances in my chest.

Then he shifts, moving from sitting on his ass to- now he's- oh fucking hell- he's kneeling.

He's got this little black box in his hands.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

**-Evan-**

Jared makes my anxiety better. Around him, my head spins and my heart skips and beats and my stomach drops and swoops, but he makes me more comfortable.

Not now. Because right now, I'm more anxious than I have been in my entire life, and I feel odd about today too, like for some reason Jared is off kilter too, and that I don't understand because he didn't even crack a joke or smile that terrible smirk-smile to himself as if maybe he wasn't even joking to himself in his head.

And here's the thing: somehow I'm braver than I've ever been right now too, because now, even though my thoughts are racing so fast I can't catch it and my heart is the only thing going as fast, I'm suddenly talking.

"Will you marry me? Because- God- I mean, I love you and I just- I love you and it would be wonderful- I'd love it if you'd spend the rest of your life with me."

Jared gapes at me with this utterly shocked, blank but happy face- I can't describe it- it's like white tinted and edged with this gold that just flutters onto the blank white and I _think_ it's a good sign- I think. Maybe. I hope so.

"Okay." Jared looks like he's laughing at something I can't see, but it's not scary because he's got this look in his eye that's so wonderfully bright. "Here's the thing."

My heart plummets for a second because I think he's about to throw an excuse at me- _here's the thing: we're both too young to get married- here's the thing: I like you but not enough to be sure about marriage- here's the thing: I came here to dump you- here's the thing: you're stupid._

And then out of Jared's pocket comes a small box just the same size as mine and he's asking me, "Will you marry me?" even though I pretty obviously will and then I'm tackling him with kisses and he's pulling me so close I think we'll merge into one person somewhere in the coming days and _we're engaged._

**XXX**

**That was the last time in a long time either one didn't have an engagement ring sparkling on their hand.**


	18. First Day Married

**-24 years old-**

**-Jared-**

The wedding took _months_ to plan, but now that it's here there's a tiny part of me that wants one more day.

I really mostly want to get married. Become Jared Hansen. But what if I mess it up? Plus, my mom's going to be there. With Dad. Dad doesn't… want to come, you could say. He probably voted for Trump. He wouldn't tell us.

Also… I've never seen Evan Hansen in a suit. I might faint.

Evan and I did consider walking down the aisle together. I joked about one of us walking down the aisle and the other wearing a dress. I volunteered to do the dress-wearing.

Oh my god, I'm so scared, I'm going to faint. Even my thoughts are flat.

Oh. Shit. This is his cue. He rounds that corner and comes down the aisle in five, four, three, two…

"Holy shit," I breathe. Then my eyes pop and I take a glance around. Mom gives me a smile, Heidi has her eyes locked on Evan.

Who is gorgeous. Literally the most insanely attractive person to ever exist in the past, present, or future. Literally something I could stare at for the rest of my life. Like, you don't understand the meaning of _take my breath away_ until you've seen Evan Hansen in a crisp, dark blue tux with a white underneath and a baby blue bow tie. His hair is just a little jelled and he's walking towards me with this _smile_.

This is no ordinary smile. This is the smile that lights up the world so brightly, groundhogs come out in the middle of winter and the birds sing and the people in hell are content to just _know_ that a smile that beautiful is going on above them.

This is the boy who flipped my world upside down with eye contact and made my heart explode when he held my hand and made me unable to stop smiling for an _entire day_ just because I saw him at the bookstore.

And here he is, right in front of me, this man that I'm in love with. And I still don't stop smiling, all through the boring lines that this old man is saying.

Because he's _right here_.

_Marrying me._

**-Evan-**

I hope no one noticed my fingers fiddling with each other like crazy when I walked down the aisle, or that they are now, standing here, but what's done is done and I'd never undo it because this is what I've dreamed of for as long as I understood the concept of loving someone, except I never dreamed it would actually happen- or that Jared would actually wear a suit- or that Jared would wear a red bow tie, but I really just love him more for it- and here we are, my expectations be damned, standing here, and the preacher is talking and talking and talking…

And I don't mind at all, because I get to stare at Jared- or, I mean, I do mind, because it's been a long day and boring and I wish we'd just get married already, it's just, Jared looks so enormously happy that it kind of expands and envelopes the whole world in this bubble of wonder and, I mean, I was wildly happy too but now it's amplified by thousands, like we multiply each other- which, I mean, is the point: we're better together than our separate parts and I'd truly never be _really _happy again without Jared.

Plus, he's beautiful. Like, really, really beautiful, not, like, superficially beautiful the way you see on instagram with filters and lighting, but true beauty that lights you up from the inside: his eyes shine and literally, like, sparkle, this beautiful swirl of colors I stare at everyday- blue and green with dashes of amber- all of it marble. In person, his eyes are an addictive thing, something you remember but never really can _recall_ until you have it right there, again, and his smile could light a million candles- or my heart- on fire-

Goddamn it, why is the preacher taking so long? I really want to kiss him- like, _really_ really; I've never wanted anything more in my life, which is actually a normal thing I have around Jared- I keep breaking my own records for wanting something because he surpasses himself everyday and I'm left wanting- but I won't, not after today because now I'll have it forever and ever and it's okay to want because I'll get it.

"Do you, Evan Hansen, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." I've never meant anything more in my life.

"Do you, Jared Kleinman, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Jared smiles-

And then he _grins_. God, I want him even more. I just broke my record for wanting, and here I am again.

"I do," he says.

I'm already leaning forwards- so is Jared- "You may kiss the groom."

And I do, and he does, and the cheers and the people and the rest of the world falls away, and it's only us.

**XXX**

**That was their last wedding. Because they never got divorced and they never married again. And other than that, there really weren't any significant **_**lasts**_**. Because they had each other for forever.**


End file.
